Ruthless Indignation
by Mycroft-mione
Summary: All Alicia Spinnet wants is to get a job in the area she loves: magical sports. So why does her boss decide to make her life difficult at every turn? (Rated T for language.)


**Word count** : 2,014

 **Written for** :

F My Life Challenge - 1: Today, I got reprimanded by my boss for smiling and laughing too much. Last week, he reprimanded me for not smiling and laughing enough. FML

Hogwarts June Funfair Event Hedge Maze - Alicia Spinnet

QLFC - Write about a light character committing the sin of your choice. Sin: pride.

Cards Against Humanity Competition - How am I compensating for my [...]? _A sea of troubles._

* * *

 **Ruthless Indignation**

* * *

It's hard to keep from grinning as the woman squeezes my hand, then produces a key from her wand and hands it to me. I first approached her with trepidation, noting her starched shirt collar and strong perfume. They're a little too reminiscent of a certain lady from my school days. But despite my occasional flubbed answers and sweaty palms, she's seen fit to accept me. To employ me. I couldn't be more euphoric.

I thank her profusely, and when she looks up from her desk again to send me off, I notice the slightest smile on her thin lips. Maybe she's not as bad as I thought. I smile back and try to catch her eye, glad to have done something right for a change.

Any gratefulness or joy is immediately squashed when I leave the office. Besides the massive crowd of foreign witches arguing below a blood-red floating banner, there's an unusually short man blocking the door. I open my mouth to speak, but his eyes lock onto me and take their time examining my body, up and down.

I clear my throat. "Can I help you?"

"Who the hell are you?" he replies. His voice is gruff, but the vowels pop out like he's chewing gum and spitting out syllables. The result is a ridiculous drawl that doesn't suit him at all.

"Alicia Spinnet," I declare, glancing at the visitor button decorating my chest. It draws his gaze as well, and now I'm truly uncomfortable.

"What are you doing in my department, Alicia?"

"Ms. Spinnet, please," I say, keeping my voice steady. I can already tell what kind of man he is, but I won't let him walk all over me. I'm not a child.

"I'll call you whatever I want to call you."

"No, as you can see on the card, my last name is Spinnet, and is that not how people are addressed at the Ministry?"

Now my voice is too dangerous, and I expect the man to grow angry, for his pig eyes to bug out in fury, for him to ball his hands into fists. He does nothing of the sort. Instead, the man guffaws at me. My jaw drops.

"You're the applicant for the Magical Games and Sports post," he says. "You got the job."

"Yes, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't treat me like trash." I've been told pride is a fault of mine, but today it's keeping my dignity, which is all I can hope for with this man. If he disrespects me for another moment, I swear I'll hex him into another country.

"You don't understand," he gets out. A wipe of his eyes, and he finishes: "I'm the head of Magical Games and Sports."

He tilts his head back, laughing, and suddenly I wish I was hidden in the gaggle of protesting women. At least they aren't laughing sadistically - never mind their bright face tattoos.

This nutjob is my new boss.

Fuck.

.oOo.

Amazingly, I'm not sacked. I'm still employed under the bastard officially known as Mr. Keswick. Admittedly, it's never been as bad as that humiliating first day. It's my luck that he never leaves his office, and therefore never gives me a second glance - or even a first one. And my skimpy Gringotts account tells me I need this job. No matter how terrible one person is, there are plenty of others to sympathize.

The office girls help. Katie would, but she's been away in Germany for awhile, and apparently my security clearance doesn't extend to foreign owl-sending. I try anyway, but it looks like I won't be able to speak with her for months.

So Hermione does the best she can, and we go out for drinks sometimes. I'm glad to see that she's loosened up a bit since I first knew her, but she usually relapses back to her old ways. Hope. Frustration. Hope again. She's got more plans than the muggle and wizard Ministers combined, but I've got too much on my mind to give them more than a night's thought.

The issue: Keswick. I can be blamed for London's economic decline and magical interracial conflicts in the same sentence, all before he pauses for breath.

He's a nuisance, and I know it, but it gets to me. It gets to me so much that I often fight him when there's no need, when I've got no chance at winning. I do it on purpose, and it's hopeless, but I'm stubborn. And I don't answer to him - I never have.

.oOo.

"Yes. Sir. I understand."

I quickly pivot on one foot and stride out the door, down the wide main hallway. The staff is surely watching me, but I keep my head down and let my cheeks burn in private. It's none of their goddamn business what the department head says in a staff meeting. Yet everyone will know in a matter of minutes. The Ministry gossip circles are vast, powerful, and inescapable. Especially for the outsiders.

I certainly do not understand.

The journey back to my office occurs in lively color. Everything I see leers at me and shakes its head in my face. _Alicia, I'll sack you any day now_. It's a ridiculous thought, I realize, when I really hear the words. But this walk feels longer than ever, if only because the stares have spread to every secretary, assistant, and floor manager. This building is so news-starved.

I exhale loudly when Hermione appears by my side and turns to walk with me. Her chin is up, and she stares down every person in her path.

"You're not any higher-ranked than me," I whisper, and she visibly straightens at my side. A moment later, once we've stepped into the safety of the elevator, she replies.

"Humph. It's all for show. A facade. It's all about your image, not your rank."

"Yeah?" I say, stabbing at the first floor button. "Well, where does Keswick get off telling me I smile and laugh too much?"

She raises her eyebrows in a traditional Hermione expression of surprise. " _That's_ what that was all about?"

"Yeah."

"But didn't he say the exact oppos-?"

"Yep. Last week."

Hermione's jaw drops, and she stamps her foot. An automated message emanates from the speakers, something about taking care of Ministry equipment.

"I'll take care of _your_ equipment," she mutters. It's then that I realize I need to be careful. Indignation doesn't suit her. Well, it suits her perfectly, but there are always consequences. And I've got enough of those already.

"Hermione," I say, resigned. "Give it up."

"I'm not going to let this one go, Alicia. He's done this so many times, and I'm sick of-"

"It's my problem," I insist. She folds her arms, and I pray that the elevator arrives quickly, because I don't want to have this discussion.

"Your problems are my problems," she says.

"Look, you're good for walking with, and ranting to," I say carefully. "But you have to admit, you like to fight people. And sooner or later, you're going to be the one getting yelled at about her facial features. I don't care how brilliant you are. If they outrank you, you're in trouble."

"Alicia-" she starts.

"This is _my_ problem. And _I'm_ going to set him straight."

The door dings, sliding open. I give Hermione a nod, and we head in opposite directions: me to my office, her to hers. Grabbing the doorknob, I pull the door shut behind me and slump into my desk chair. What I need right now is some strong liquor and a chocolate cake.

.oOo.

"Ms. Spinnet? Alicia?"

Someone pokes her head in my office. Nancy, the secretary next door.

"Do we not use owls anymore? Or memos?"

She shrugs. "Look, I hate to say it, but Keswick's looking for you."

I stop scrawling on the paper in front of me. "Is he?"

"He says it's big and you'd better hurry."

.oOo.

Walking into Keswick's office is like walking onto a battlefield. I know I'm going to see cowardice, but I'm hoping it'll lay low under fire. It never does.

He sneers at me from the start, not even bothering with a greeting or peace offering. The man goes straight to the malice and idiocy he's known for. I plant myself in the smaller chair across from his, and force a professional face to cloak my own.

"You asked to see me?"

"I know you're busy," he drawls.

"Get on with it - sir."

Keswick takes his time setting his feet on the desk, and rests his head on his hands, beach-style. He looks as though he could care less, yet I know there's a reason for my summons just waiting to burst. But I won't give him the satisfaction of watching me beg for it.

"I don't like you," he says plainly. "Never have. But I suppose you know that."

"I do, sir." If I'm just here for a berating session, I'm never listening to Nancy again.

"I suppose, then, you're also aware that we've been having problems with the Prophet? My department isn't looking too good. And that bothers me."

"I had nothing to do with it."

He smirks, drawing up his face into a tighter pinch and then releasing it. "Frankly, I don't care. I need a scapegoat and I've got one."

My mouth falls open. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry if I wasn't clear enough for your little girlie head." He stands up, placing himself between the door and me. "You're out."

"What. The. Hell."

He waits there, amused.

"I did nothing. And just because you're too screwed up to fix things for yourself, you get the one person who actually works around here and try to throw her out!"

I'm glaring at him, daring him to draw his wand. He does, but I beat him to it.

"Your pride is disgusting," he informs me.

"You're disgusting." My wand hand quivers, and I have to fight to keep it lowered.

"Oh, that was a mistake," he mumbles, inadvertently shooting red sparks out of his wand. His hands are shaking more than mine, and I find myself afraid. But I can't let him know that he's got to me. I can't. I can't. I-

" _Stupefy_!"

" _Protego_!"

My spell rebounds off him and narrowly misses my head, smashing a jar of slimy matter atop a filing cabinet. I drop my wand, aware that what I have just done must break a dozen or so Ministry regulations. If I wasn't sacked before, I certainly am now.

I sit in the smaller chair again, crossing my shaking legs. "I suppose you're trying to compensate for something."

The expression of fury on Keswick's face hasn't diminished at all. "What?"

"Maybe you're... _lacking_ , and that's why you treat me and everyone else like shit. To feel good about yourself." A short laugh of insanity bursts out of me. I'm practically going mad from rage.

"Are you saying...?"

"An unendowed man makes a sea of troubles," I tell him. I also ask myself what the hell I'm doing, because it's unclear. Unfortunately, none of me seems to know.

"Get. Out," he snarls, a squeak dotting the end of each word.

"My pleasure!"

I slam the door shut behind me, crossing the hall to pack up my office. Nancy appears, and that's when I realize the entire department staff has been listening.

"Alicia?" she asks in disbelief.

I'm helpless, my anger gone now that I've left the scene. "I was angry," I whisper. "I can't put up with him any longer, Nan. He doesn't respect me. I'm not a person to him."

"I know." She runs her hands through her hair, something she does when she's unsure. "I would leave with you, and see how Keswick tries to run the staff all by himself." She pauses. "But I need the money."

"Yeah."

We enter my office, and I conjure some boxes for my things. "Best of luck," she says, shaking her head.

"Thanks." I squeeze her hand, give her a sad smile, and turn back to the desk. "You too."


End file.
